


Time Is Pouring Out

by FlysWhumpCenter (TheDarkFlygon)



Series: Bad Things Happen to the Wrong People Because It's More Romanesque That Way (BTHB) [25]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blood and Injury, Caretaking, F/M, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, POV Third Person, Pre-Relationship, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 11:04:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19333276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkFlygon/pseuds/FlysWhumpCenter
Summary: An unlikely duo of lone wolves find themselves split from their group of friends in the ruins of a desolated city.Of course it had to go wrong somewhere and get one of them injured, but stubborn; because they're both stubborn, but one of them is more of a fool than the other.





	Time Is Pouring Out

**Author's Note:**

> One more fic like that and I'm an official contender to write the whump pendant of "The ABC of Shun Kurosaki".  
> (Weall know I may just be able to pull that bs off).
> 
> Written for my Bad Things Happen Bingo card!  
> https://morbusaegraquescribo.tumblr.com/post/177380574551/here-is-your-card-for-bad-things-happen-bingo  
> Prompt: Bleeding Through the Bandages + Peregrineshipping
> 
> This is set in an AU where Serena got to the XYZ Dimension with the other Lancers and where, in a misfortune, Shun and she got cut from the others. Also, Peregrineship? I just think they're really neat. I wish the anime had explored their dynamic more than just during the broken ribs episode and a bit afterwards.  
> Let's be honest here, I didn't really know what I was doing, so both characters may be heavily OOC. If that's the case, my apologies. It was a bit difficult to imagine Serena's potential character development would she have stuck around with the group to the Xyz Dimension, albeit it was fun speculation to do with myself. (To me, my Shun is way too soft in this story, but... heh...)  
> You may have also noticed this is my last BTHB prompt fill, which I'm gonna go more in details about in my end notes and, later on, in a retrospective video.

“You… You’re a _fool_ , Kurosaki.”

Serena didn’t even look up as she told her fellow Lancer so, her hands busy disinfecting small wounds and applying bandages around the cuts he had gotten from duelling Academia students. Not that he was any happier about having to be bandaged up on the go than she was: they were searching for the “Duel Sanctuary” the Resistance had taken shelter in and that Allen and Sayaka had told them about before they had all gotten split up, it was costing them time and, frankly, getting scolded wasn’t a part of his passions. He had essentially duelled these guys because they wanted to abduct her, he’d have thought she’d have been happy about that.

“I’ve told you _not_ to barge into action like that several times already, do you even listen to me?” she continued as if she hadn’t gotten the urge to fistfight her own former alliance before realizing it was going to be hopeless. “Look at where that got you.”

 

He didn’t respond, preferring to grit through his teeth as she applied antiseptics on his cuts and focus on where exactly he had been hit (mostly his sides), before getting up again and zipping back his coat close. They were losing time, they both knew that, but she had thought patching up some little cuts was important enough to waste that precious time. They needed to meet back with the others before a catastrophe could happened. After all, the ruins of Heartland could have been hiding all kinds of direct threats to them, he knew that well, but she didn’t know what kind of threats exactly. At least, not yet.

 

“Just be careful, next time,” she told him as she got to her feet. “I don’t have _that_ many bandages on me.”

They exchanged a smug smile.

“Will do. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. I, at least, owe you that.”

 

They resumed their walking, gazes looking around for their comrades, their footsteps echoing in the deafening silence of death and past destruction. As their eyes kept admitting all there was, was the ever-lasting void of an annihilated city, Shun wondered what exactly had made him trust Serena, who clearly had once been the enemy (and hadn’t hidden that fact to what her faction would have called “Xyz scum”), enough to let her patch up some small cuts.

In a way, she had been lucky that the eerie calm of their situation had made it so he had allowed her to wrap some cloth bandages she had on her (“Academia taught us to patch ourselves up if we ever got injured, so I’ve always had some first-aid stuff on me,” she had told him as he had been opening up his coat). Maybe the sheer absurdity of bandaging someone in a physical representation of what desolation felt like had made it so being a prude had no value anymore, no shame to expose one’s skin to someone else.

And, to be fair, he _did_ trust Serena like he trusted the other Lancers, if not more. She had helped him escape when he had broken a rib: it wasn’t even like she hadn’t seen him when he was vulnerable and left wide open for any potential assailant. Moreover, as far as he knew, things hadn’t changed in that regard between them for her to suddenly want to do the opposite way around: they still were allies and, dared he thought it, friends, despite all odds and the warfare going on. They had to stick together until they reunited with the others anyway: better make the best of it.

 

“Was it always _this_ silent, before you left for Standard?”

“No. They must have left the city once the Resistance moved bases.”

“…I see.”

Silence again. Neither of them was good at small talk and, considering the current atmosphere, they more than likely didn’t know what to tell each other about either. Looking around for danger was already enough of a distraction.

 

It wasn’t like either of them wasn’t entirely focused on the mission at hand either. They were the kind to think of the objective and only the objective, which made their tandem surprisingly work despite the former rift between them. Their goal: finding the others, reunite the Resistance, get Kaito back into it and help the survivors fend off against Academia. Nothing else mattered, really, as long as they were aware and able to walk.

Yet, something was off about the situation. Serena could just feel something strange, a something she couldn’t describe in words: a feeling of something about to go wrong, or already going wrong. It wasn’t exactly unfamiliar, but she wasn’t used to it either, like a distant thing she had used to feel before forgetting all about it years ago. Maybe it was just the smell in the air, akin to rust and blood, of dust and, in a way, death. Academia had been made out of monsters all along, and she had contributed to it… The horrors of Heartland kept clutching at her heart, reminding her of the actions and ideology she had once defended.

 

As she didn’t know the city, Serena was walking behind Kurosaki, who always made sure to signal her when they’d turn around a corner by putting his arm in front of her. She didn’t need protection, as she could perfectly fend off for herself; but her reason told her not to risk getting lost in the ruins and, as such, to tolerate it. Perhaps he was simply trying to pretend like she was his lost sister, as if he was protecting Ruri and not her, making sure she was safe by putting himself first. At least, he seemed passionate enough to do that, to her.

(They didn’t know each other that much, despite the intensity of their recent experiences. Getting to know someone when both parties are involved in a war whose dimension is way above their heads was arduous, and getting split from the group was the best way to learn about a comrade in misfortune).

 

Nonetheless, even with the needed precaution and the eerie lack of activity all around them taken into account, it was still weird to her that Kurosaki was _that_ slow. His footsteps were heavier than hers, sloppier even, and he was, she’d have sworn, losing more and more speed as time went on. For someone who had first protested against getting his wounds treated, “we don’t have time to do that, we need to find the others”, he sure was the one making them lose all that precious time he had ranted about wasting to his own wellbeing.

The ambient smell was what bothered Serena the most out of all these little things surrounding them. It was, like the impression of incoming disaster, not a stranger to her: in a way, it was frighteningly the opposite. It was faint, but her sense had been sharpened by the training of Academia: she caught up on the iron smell, on the fact it was indeed weak, yet present and strengthening. There had to be a reason why she hadn’t been disturbed by it before, right? What was that reason?

 

Because she didn’t pay attention as much as to where she was walking anymore, she almost crashed into Kurosaki who, to her surprise, hadn’t anticipated it and almost tripped over himself. At first, she had guessed his foot had gotten tricked by a piece of debris or shrapnel; but there was nothing at his feet, only dust and a plain, crackled surface. His loss of balance seemed more and more unnatural as it went, making her heart do that weird little thing she had felt when she had seen him at the bottom of these stairs, a hand trying to clench his own ribcage through his clothing.

(Funny enough, she had taken advantage of having to take care of his wounds to check if there had been any bruising there. There hadn’t, but she was still left wondering why she had even thought about checking that out. Of course it’d have healed since then).

Serena quickly realized that she was, in fact, getting concerned for him all over again, except she was even more surprised this time around: back during the Battle Royale, she hadn’t had the time to wonder why she was worrying for some “Xyz scum”. Now, due to his speed and now the fact he had stopped altogether for a few seconds, she had the time to question her own feelings for once, not hindered by Academia’s mould or peer pressure. Usually, she’d have been infuriated to be stopped in her walk when she had no time to lose, getting aggravated the moment someone would slow down; but that was then, she supposed, and now she was concerned because the guy she was walking with should have been much quicker than that on his feet. Something was wrong.

 

“Kurosaki, why did you stop?” she asked him, her voice trying to be both loud enough to get an immediate response out of him and low enough not to echo in the void.

He didn’t respond immediately, preferring to turn towards her before. Looking at his face again, she was realizing he had begun panting despite the low effort they were doing (he hadn’t shown any signs of fatigue beforehand, that was beyond suspicious), eyes looking hazier than they had done before. The smell had gotten stronger too, to the point she was finally able to recognize it: it was, unmistakeably, blood.

And the red stain Kurosaki had his hand over was giving it all away.

 

“Don’t tell me you’re bleeding again!”

She was more upset at the wound than him, because he wasn’t exactly responsible for the liquid pouring out of it to act up on its own after she had tried to stop it, but her emotions had taken over. He hadn’t recoiled, didn’t even look fazed by getting yelled at, simply looked at his wound and fingers starting to coat in red.

“I guess so,” he responded nonchalantly before ducking his head in the other direction. “I think I saw Yuya and the others far away, we should be close to finding them.”

“Don’t change the topic, let me check that!”

 

Shun frowned in response. Did he know he was bleeding again? Yes, or at least, he had supposed so before she had pointed it out. Did he want to waste even more time on what was most likely still a minor injury? No, absolutely not. He could swear he had just heard, in the distance and faintly, but had still heard nonetheless, the voice of his companions. There was no mistaking about the fact he had heard Sayaka, Allen, Yuya and the others. He felt faint, a bit weak on his legs, but still very much able to walk.

He’d have had all the time in the world to bleed after they had found the sanctuary and their friends, so pressing on was a better strategy than just stopping there to see what cut had continued bleeding despite the care Serena had put into stopping their doings.

And yet she grabbed his wrist, put her other hand on his shoulder, and forced him to sit down here and there without any warning, leaving him lightly stunned and, admittedly, defenceless.

 

“We won’t get anywhere if you pull that crap on me, so stop being a child and let me see! I don’t want to drag you through the wastelands because you’ll have passed out from blood loss!”

Shun sighed, but gave in and started opening his coat again. There was no reasoning with the thick-skulled, stubborn, proud Serena: it’d just be a lost battle and, frankly, he felt too tired to deal with it. On second thought, the fact he felt _that_ fatigued was a dead giveaway that these bastards had gotten more hits on him that he’d thought. In fact, she was as stubborn as he was: that was why he felt so comfortable working with her, he supposed. It didn’t help make his wounds look any less concerning, though.

“Make it quick, we need to catch up on them as soon as possible.”

“Will do.”

 

Serena kneeled to his head level and put out her first-aid kit again. Having nothing else to do and feeling his consciousness starting to leave his body through his vision dimming, he focused his attention on her, on her hands finding the source of the problem, on the kit she had next to her, on the floor. _Focus, don’t let yourself pass out_. Someone fainting out in the streets was a sure way to get killed. _Focus, don’t let yourself pass out_. He was in good hands anyway, and would soon be joined by their comrades. _Focus, don’t let yourself pass out_.

She still had her fingers coated in a think layer of dried blood, showing up as maroon plaques on her hands. Her fingertips traced across his abdomen until she gritted her teeth, having found the culprit. It was, honestly, easy to spot: a red spot tainting the white of the bandages, soaking them until she could visibly guess they were going to stick. Serena gritted her teeth again: she had thought that had really just been a cut, not even thinking back on it that it could have been any deeper.

Her frustration would have to wait.

 

“Don’t faint on me, Kurosaki, got it?”

He nodded, as it to save energy by doing so.

“I’ll need to peel that off, then disinfect the wound again, so it’s going to sting more than earlier.”

 

In full silence, she started on her work, doing as she said she would. Her guesses had been right, this time: the bandages stuck to his skin around the cut, the fabric sipping with blood on her hands, until she had reached a point where she had to suddenly tear it off. She muttered an almost-quiet apology before yanking it off, leading Kurosaki to strangle a yelp. She could have contemplated the pain it was bringing him considering her past experience with him, but their time was running out like his consciousness was pouring out of the wound, so she simply kept on with her procedure.

As she disinfected the source of their problems, Serena examined it. It clearly was deeper than she had thought it to be at first, the stench coming out of it almost nauseating, more akin to a stab wound than some artificial scratch done with a blade. From what she could gather, he hadn’t exactly gotten stabbed, but it had been his assailant’s intention all along, leading to a deep cut bleeding heavily, but not immediately life-threatening. Considering their scarce resources in this dimension, Serena chose to bandage the wound again after making sure it wasn’t going to get infected anytime soon, pushing a compress against it as she did so. As she did so, she heard grunts, even if he mostly stood quiet as she did what she had to do. Truly, they both had their ability to hold their ground against their own injuries.

 

“I’m done,” she said, not without pride, as she rose her eyes and put her kit away. The lack of any response and his glassed eyes made her heart jump for a moment before she had to make sure and asked, “Kurosaki, you’re still with me?”

He zipped his coat close, yet again, got up – and so did she as to follow along –, and shook his head, exhaling what sounded like a sigh of relief, or one at to chase the pain away. She wasn’t exactly able to tell.

“Yeah… Let’s meet up with the others, now.”

As if they had been in the known, she heard their comrades in the distance, before spotting their shapes in the distance, on the other side of the street. As she felt a smile appear on her face, either in relief or just in happiness to see them all again and in one piece, she decided she’d help them go forward by putting Kurosaki’s arm on her shoulders (not that he was objecting to it, busy trying to remain conscious).

“Yeah. Let’s do that.”

 

They, obviously, were much slower than before, and it’d have frustrated her to no end if she hadn’t able to see their partners coming towards them, Yuya waving at their duo. As it stood, instead, she told herself that she could stomach the slowdown and support them until they’d be reunited, making sure that he was still awake and able to walk with her. They, again, exchanged smiles.

“Thank you… again.”

“You’re still welcome.”

 

She’d scold that fool further later. For now, she had friends to join back, and he had a situation to explain. In a way, they were both fools.

**Author's Note:**

> TL;DR: final thoughts on my BTHB fills, now that this fic closes it off.
> 
> And so with that ends my BTHB campaign, 10 months after I originally began it, in September 2018.  
> I can't say I expected to write at least half the things I've written for it. Back then, I thought most of my fills would be requests: it's actually barely the case. If I remember correctly, only "Remembering to Rest" (I7), "Bitter Words and Sour Tears" (I7, perhaps the worse prompt fill of them all), "White Hat's White Nights" (VRAINS) and "Edge of the Razor" (I7, a request from my pal Neha who really knew what I was all about) ever were requests. The rest is either suggestions ("Map of the Problematique" and "Illogical Reactions, Logical Reasons," both DBH) or absolutely self-indulgent trash. 
> 
> Same can be said about the fandoms. I went in thinking it'd all be IDOLiSH7, VRAINS and Danganronpa stuff. Instead, even if I7 has the majority of the prompt fills: here's a quick rundown: I7 (6), Danganronpa & Trauma Center (4), DBH & Arc-V (3), VRAINS (2), Corpse Party, Inazuma Eleven & Pokémon (1). Yeah. Can't really say that this is how I expected things to go. Oh well.
> 
> It was a tun of fun and I'm very proud to have gone through with the prompt fills. It made me write some different things with some being experments ("Hyperventilate" was, despite its dark themes, super fun to write and refreshing as hell).


End file.
